


Coffee Stain

by venom_for_free



Series: Fantaesy [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Blow Jobs, Consent, Dom/sub, Drama, Happy Ending, M/M, Office, One Shot, Pining, Romance, Sexual Content, Yuri is a brat, Yuri is also a cat, literally not safe for work, posessiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26253604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free
Summary: He feels it before he actively registers what happened. Otabek stares at his hand—his empty hand—and the cup between his legs before the coffee finally saturates his trousers and the scorching hot material threatens to burn his crotch.“What the FUCK?” He isn’t usually the type to curse. But having coffee slapped out of your hand isn’t a usual occurrence, either. He jumps out of his desk chair, causing the hot fluid to run down his legs and leave more tender skin behind. But he doesn’t care, he can’t, because now it’s gone from his crotch, and call him primal but Otabek would rather lose parts of his legs than his junk.In a perfect, peaceful world, of course he wouldn’t have to make that choice. But it’s the office and it’s war and Yuri Plisetsky knows what he has done based on the way he grins at Otabek. He doesn’t even pretend to be sorry, the fucking asshole.--Or: Yuri pours coffee over Otabek's crotch because he REALLY. NEEDS. THAT. ATTENTION.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Fantaesy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848073
Comments: 33
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/gifts).



> Another prompted one shot for my beloved Tae.  
> The prompt was Yuri actively slapping a cup of coffee out of Otabek's hand.  
> Of course, I turned it into kinky porn.

He feels it before he actively registers what happened. Otabek stares at his hand—his empty hand—and the cup between his legs before the coffee finally saturates his trousers and the scorching hot material threatens to burn his crotch. 

“What the FUCK?” He isn’t usually the type to curse. But having coffee slapped out of your hand isn’t a usual occurrence, either. He jumps out of his desk chair, causing the hot fluid to run down his legs and leave more tender skin behind. But he doesn’t care, he can’t, because now it’s gone from his crotch, and call him primal but Otabek would rather lose parts of his legs than his junk. 

In a perfect, peaceful world, of course he wouldn’t have to make that choice. But it’s the office and it’s war and Yuri Plisetsky knows what he has done based on the way he grins at Otabek. He doesn’t even pretend to be sorry, the fucking asshole. Otabek wants to take his dumb ass and bend the man over the table, spanking him until he is as red as the burned skin on the inside of his own thighs, but the bastard would like it. That is an educated guess, at least. He seemed to enjoy himself when Otabek fucked him hard against the bathroom stall during the Christmas party. But they were drunk back then and very horny and he had a breakup to work through. No idea what Yuri’s justification was. 

In fact, Otabek has no idea what it is right now. He glares at his coworker, who only has a small smile for him. “You’re a fucking psychopath, Plisetsky.” 

“Sentences like that only increase the mental health stigma and lead to people associating neurodivergent behavior with threats, Altin.” 

“What?” 

“Forget it. Your monkey brain wouldn’t comprehend it.” 

“I understood just fine what you said. But I don’t get why of all things you could lecture me on, you went for political correctness. AFTER SPILLING BURNING HOT COFFEE ON MY LAP!” 

“Oh come on. It’s not  _ that  _ hot. Our damn coffee maker barely goes over lukewarm.” 

“That was coffee from the shop!” 

“In an office cup?” 

“Do you think I’m dumb enough to parade around with a Starbucks cup?” 

Yuri tilts his head, looks him up and down, shrugs. “Yeah. Actually, I do. I’m surprised you’ve got enough of a brain to actually—”

“What the hell do you want?!” 

“The remote.” 

“What?”

“The remote.” 

“That was a semantic ‘what?’, not an auditory ‘what?’.” 

“The. Remote.” 

“OH MY GOD!” Otabek throws his head back and groans, but that was dumb because now people are looking at them and he has a spill all over his front like a kid that peed themself. “What remote?” 

Yuri seems to finally understand what he wants and casually sits on Otabek’s desk. “For the AC. It’s too warm in here. I don’t care that you are trying to recreate your home-country conditions. I’m from the land where you can spit in the wind and it is frozen before it hits the the ground. Give me the AC remote. I’m burning up!” 

“You mean like someone with freshly brewed coffee all over their junk? And you are from Saint Petersburg. You have standard weather conditions.” 

“Can you prove that?” 

“No?” 

“Then hand me the remote.” 

Otabek stares at the stubborn man on his desk. “Listen, I don't care what game you are playing right now, I don’t have the time. Whatever you are up to, Plisestky, I—” 

“Altin? What happened to your pants?” 

Fuck. That is the last thing he needs right now. “Nothing, Mister Feltsman. I accidentally dropped my coffee cup.” Yuri next to him offers their boss a smile sweet enough to kill fruit flies. It’s disgusting. It also makes Otabek’s heart beat a little faster. 

Yuri looks like a bubblegum rollerblading fantasy. Long, blond hair that would be adorable if it was parted into pigtails. A saccharine smile that spits nothing but bile. He’s in a three-piece suit but Otabek can envision the hotpants and the crop top far too easily, paired with knee and elbow protectors. Maybe fingerless gloves, and shit—the last thing he needs is a boner in his soaked, clings pants, but the Yuri in his mind is blowing bubbles with those sinful pink lips now. 

“Be more careful next time, you represent the company, for fuck’s sake.” Their boss shakes his head like a disappointed parent. 

It adds insult to injury to see Yuri nod along to those words. The god damn asshole slapped his cup out of his hand as if he was a bored kitten in heat or whatever other throes. Otabek knows nothing about cats and he never wanted to, but the way Yuri’s eyes glint makes him question everything. 

Yakov leaves and he turns back to the human kitten on his desk, wondering if Yuri would toss down the cup holding his pencils if ignored for too long. “Explain to me again why you poured hot coffee on me in the hope that it would make me want to comply to your dumb request?” 

“I thought if you felt as hot as I did, maybe you would want to lower the temperature all on your own?” His voice is a dangerous purr. Where did that come from? Has it always been like that? No. Yuri is leaning forward into his space and belatedly, Otabek realizes he would have called HR if it was anyone but Yuri Plisetky. Their pantlegs brush together and Yuri has that playful smile again. Suddenly Otabek understands this isn’t about the air conditioning. It never was. 

Yuri seems to smell his understanding because his bushfire eyes glint even brighter, burning hotter than any of the liquid on his lap had. He leans forward even more and now is definitely in Otabek’s space. If someone were to walk past them, it would look indecent. With Otabek’s wet pants and the way Yuri suddenly decided to eyefuck him, they are on a display of sin, barely protected by the half-walls of a cubicle. 

“Why?” 

Yuri shrugs. “Why not?” 

“You burned me.” 

“Not intentionally. But I’ll kiss it better if that helps. You should get out of those wet pants, you know? Or you might get sick. Bedrest can be so annoying. Although I heard pleasant things about being bound to a bed.” 

Holy shit.  _ Holy shit.  _ “I could get you kicked out for that.” He stares unblinkingly into Yuri’s pupils. Otabek watches them expand as Yuri grins. Is it because the lighting changes, or is it true that you can see desire reflected in the way they expand when aroused? 

“You don’t want that. Who else would apologize to you the way I could?” 

“You didn’t apologize yet.” 

“We are still sitting in your cubicle. Do you really want me to do it here?” He wishes he could hide the twitching that Yuri’s words caused, but his pants are tight on a good day, and now they are soaked and clinging to his outline. The kitten smiles at his lap, looks around, and brushes a single finger over Otabek. “I’m  _ so  _ sorry, Beka. Let me apologize properly?” His eyes wander over Otabek’s body, scrutinizing him until they drill into his own gaze. Yuri’s face is mere inches apart. 

“You’re going to get both of us kicked out.” 

“I tried to get your attention for a while. If we are still here, I guess people are okay with that.” 

That is news to him. But it shouldn’t be. Looking back, there were a dozen instances when he felt like Yuri was targeting him in one way or another. A step on his toes in an escalator, insults falling from perfect lips like leaves in autumn, Yuri continuing to cut him off in meetings and discussions. Staring at the facts now, with the new knowledge of it all being on purpose, Otabek notices the pattern. 

“You could have asked.” 

“I didn’t ask in December, either.” 

“We were both drunk.” 

“Oh, so I should have tried that?” His eyebrow quirks, indicating that he seems to actually be considering the option. The worst thing is, Otabek can see it. He can see Yuri mixing some liquor into his coffee just because he wants to get railed and doesn’t feel like asking. 

“You could have just spoken to me. Like a normal human being.” 

Yuri rolls his eyes as if the idea alone bores him. “Sure, I could have, but where is the fun in that?” 

“Where is the fun in a lap full of scorching coffee?” 

“I did not mean to burn you, geez.” Yuri hops off the table and stands, then turns Otabek’s chair so his back is to the entrance of the cubicle. Bending down too fast to actually understand what is going on, Yuri presses his face to the inside of Otabek’s thigh. The wet material is no longer warm, but the heat from Yuri’s cheek is enough that Otabek wants to flinch away. That, and the fact that there is a man with his lips only a few inches away from his dick in the middle of his workplace. 

“ARE YOU INSANE?” He shout-whispers, but Yuri’s lips curl into a smile.

“No. Just a little bored. And I told you about the mental health stigma thing and—” 

“Don’t. Plisetsky, don’t. Just … leave.” 

Yuri’s smile falls. He obviously didn’t expect being turned down, not after offering himself so openly. He’s used to getting what he wants all the time. Otabek wonders if not cluing in for so long made Yuri more desperate, denied from the one thing he couldn’t immediately have. Of course, if Otabek had known … but that is besides the point. There are hints of rage in the big green eyes roaming his face like a tiger. Yuri is very much not used to being sent away. 

“Fine.” He looks like an athlete with the way he rolls his body back and upright in one fluid motion, about to storm out when Otabek grabs his arm and yanks him back. He pulls relentlessly on the appendage until Yuri’s ear is in front of his mouth. Yuri goes willingly. Otabek can’t be sure, but he thinks he heard a little moan. 

“Go to the bathroom and prepare yourself for me. You better be quick. And thorough. Because I won’t fucking put anything into you but my cock today, so you better be ready for that.” 

The kitten shivers, visibly, goosebumps over the few bits of skin Otabek can see with the suit. He nods, eyes glassy as he waits for his arm to be released. That isn’t what Otabek expected. He thought Yuri would fight him, pull his arm back, maybe even tell him to literally fuck himself instead. But he holds still and waits until he is given permission to retreat. Otabek does so with a hammering heart. When Yuri turns back, the gloss of his eyes is no longer. They are dulled and heavy with what Otabek has to admit looks a lot like desire. 

Yuri never wanted to be cradled and coddled, he realizes as he watches his coworker retreat. He chose aggression as his way of flirting because that is what he wanted to receive in return. He has no interest in being held. Yuri wants to be fucked, and Otabek was a fool to not notice it right away.

He gives Yuri fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of staring at his excel sheet unseeingly. Numbers make no sense anymore, nothing makes sense, nothing but being balls deep in the kitten. He is hard from the thought alone, of Yuri standing in the bathroom with soap or lotion or lube, he has no idea how prepared the man is. One, two, three fingers in his ass, moaning, trying to be quiet. His noises are only for Otabek. When he can’t stand it anymore, Otabek gets up. He carefully shrugs his jacket off, folds it over his arm, and walks towards the bathroom with the garment hiding his sinful plans. 

Walking in, he has to correct his fantasy. Yuri isn’t  _ quietly  _ moaning or hiding his noises. It’s not hard to find him with how intense he is. The door is unlocked. Anyone could have walked in on the kitten with half his hand up his ass and maybe, that is what Yuri likes. He smiles when he sees Otabek. 

“I wasn’t sure you would come.” 

And maybe it isn’t the situation for it—no, scratch that. It  _ definitely  _ isn’t—but he looks Yuri up and down, trying to fight a grin, and murmurs  _ ‘I was.’  _

Fire on Yuri’s cheek, from embarrassment or arousal or strain or god knows what. Otabek wants to kiss the flames, but there is something else he needs to do right the fuck now. The door closed behind him, he peels off the wet pants. Before he can say or do anything, his play partner is on the floor, kissing red lines on his thighs. Yuri is thorough. Otabek believes him when he says he didn’t mean to burn him with the way he puts extra effort in. One part of him, Yuri soothes almost excessively. Maybe that is why he always wears a ponytail. Otabek grabs it and makes sure the kitten doesn’t miss a spot. Wet heat envelops him and he pushes down, lets Yuri have every bit of him, and holds him there. 

He can feel the kitten fighting his gag reflex and Otabek  _ would  _ let him go, but Yuri’s eyes are filled with stars and fog and the night sky tinted in green as he smiles through the struggle. It’s hard to hold back when he is sheathed in silky warmth and plush lips, and from one moment to the other, Otabek realizes he doesn’t  _ want  _ to hold back. So he fucks into the willing mouth, over the curled tongue, down the spasming throat. Yuri gags more than once, but he looks so grateful, there is no way either of them will stop now. 

When Otabek cums, it’s quick and hard and a surprise for both of them. Yuri swallows all of it with the greed of a cat being fed fresh cream and smiles, even though his lips are stretched wide. For a moment, Otabek holds still, lets Yuri’s clenching throat milk him through the sensation. Then, he pulls out and slaps Yuri across the face with his still-damp cock. This time, the kitten audibly thanks him, turns his head, chases his new toy. He kisses and licks and soothes the sensitive skin and for a bit, Otabek lets him, but then he tucks himself away and pulls Yuri upright by his hair. They smile at each other. 

“Poor kitty didn’t get what he wanted, huh?” Yuri nods, but he looks so much calmer now, Otabek wouldn’t know he didn’t come if he hadn’t been the one denying him. “Too bad. Looks like you’ll have to wait a little longer for your punishment. And you better be ready.” One of his hands curls around Yuri’s cheek, the other cups his ass. Yuri turns his head and sucks his thumb in with a pleased smile. “Don’t worry, naughty kitten. I’ll get to you. Maybe today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after. But until then, you better wait for me and stay open, understood?” 

Yuri moans around the digit in his mouth and bobs his head for a yes. Otabek’s grip on his ass tightens. “Good. Now get dressed and get back to work. I’ll see you here again in three hours. Maybe then I’ll feel a little more indulgent.” 

He won’t. He will make Yuri work for it. But Otabek can see in the smile that his new kitten knows and that he likes it. Yuri bites his own lip and tucks his face against Otabek’s neck. They rest like that for a moment, until he sends Yuri back, still hard and disheveled. 

Yuri Plisetsky is a lot of things. 

But now, they all belong to Otabek. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know my dudes, I really loved this little one shot.  
> How is everyone? 
> 
> Thank you to the amazing Tae for always being there for me and for giving me so many nice things to work with.
>
>> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae), and to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy September Prompt ♥

The  _ BANG  _ echoes through the entire building when Yuri Plisetsky leaves the conference hall. He's smaller than most, lithe. People like to compare him to a fairy, but Otabek knows that's bullshit. Fairies are soft, sometimes even gentle creatures. Yuri is a wildcat, barely tamed enough not to rip his expensive suit off his body whenever he gets angry. And the kitten is often angry.

Sometimes Otabek wonders, is this the day he snaps? Is this the day Yuri decided to no longer give a fuck about anyone and just lights the building on fire? But so far, the worst thing the kitten has done is throw some doors or chosen words at whatever or whoever dared to offend him. Though the future doesn't look too sunny if he keeps allowing everything to rile him up like that. 

Otabek knows he has to interfere. It's his job to make sure the kitten is taken care of, after all. That's what he promised him, along with some marks on his body.  _ Mine. Mine. Mine.  _ Not just on good days. 

Mister Feltsman grunts. He's used to Yuri's antics. Everyone at the office is at this point. He often sits down and counts to ten. That helps ease the tension, but whenever a poor idiot interrupts his counting, they are yelled at loud enough to dissolve into a puddle of shame and fear. 

Now, their boss stares at Otabek, raises his eyebrows, tilts his head. It's a silent question. Does he want to follow? Can he  _ please  _ want to follow? Admittedly, they haven't exactly been secretive with their little workplace romance, but Otabek nonetheless expected for people to clue in much slower. 

Maybe it was the hickeys littering Yuri's neck when he returned from the toilet. 

Maybe it was the thin black collar he refuses to take off, even if his tie presses into it. Yuri has to redo it a few times a day just to take the pressure off, which leads to him exposing the thin metal band. Otabek always thinks he looks proud doing so. 

Maybe it was the fact they keep disappearing into the toilet stalls together. The first few days, some of the girls talked about them, gossiped. _ How scandalous. How wild. Oh no, I think they are just friends. What if they are doing drugs _ ? 

Or maybe it was Yuri walking up to the bunch of them, licking his lips, opening his pony tail and grinning, before telling them  _ 'It's true what they say about Kazakh men and their … shoe size.'  _

One of them wanted to have him kicked out for that, but Yuri shrugged, unusually relaxed, and leaned into his chair, informing them that he hadn't said anything inappropriate. But clearly, the women were objectifying him and Otabek if that was where their mind went. 

It was a stalemate. At least since then they stopped gossiping. But now, everyone thinks the kitten is his problem. And technically, they are right, but Otabek would love to keep his private life and his work life separated. 

Except for the times when Yuri gags on his cock in the stalls, of course. 

It's not like the company willingly tolerates them messing around. It's that they can't really do much about it without admitting they breach their workers' privacy. So, apparently, everyone knows he fucks the kitten, but no one says anything because both Otabek and Yuri are too hard to replace. Instead, Feltsman uses him as a lever to get the kitten to comply. 

Fine. 

Otabek huffs and turns around, stomps after the little beast, mind on catching his brat before he brings more chaos over them. 

He finds Yuri in the kitchenette, squatting on the floor, eyes trained on a mug that must belong to Leroy, if one wants to go by the ugly maple leaf logos all over it. 

"Don't." 

Yuri hisses, startled out of his trance. He glares at the ceramic, then at Otabek. In one fluid motion, he stands before cleanly swiping the mug off the counter. Predictably, it shatters into a dozen pieces. Now Yuri grins. He's all teeth, more tiger than housecat today. He needs a strong hand, Otabek concludes. 

So he turns around and walks away, leaves the kitten with his smile and the broken mug. Showing agitation now means losing. Otabek can't see Yuri's face as he walks off, but he's sure there is confusion on it, thinly veiled by rage. 

Feltsman stares at him when he goes back to his desk. It's obvious he hasn't done anything so far. Of course, his boss isn't excited. But if he knew how to tame the wildcat, he wouldn't need Otabek. Cages contain Yuri Plisetsky, but never for long. He has to scream and rage and roam freely and if you respect that, the man will in turn slip into a collar as if it's his second skin. Therefore, Otabek nods towards his boss. He acknowledges, _ I know what to do and I'm on it, but leave it to me.  _ Feltsman nods back and retreats. From the kitchen, he hears Leroy's wail and Yuri's laughter. 

\-- 

Fifteen minutes later and Yuri is at his desk again. He's twitchy. Though it's not because he is nervous, but because he's an addict and he craves. Not cocaine, or nicotine, or even coffee. It's attention Plisetsky needs, and right now, Otabek is making sure not to give him any, even if he tries. He's been glaring ever since the kitchenette. 

Apparently, Leroy's distress wasn't enough to feed the kitten's need for his precious drug of choice or maybe it wasn't what he needed because it wasn't Otabek. But Yuri needs his fix and he needs it in a way that is obvious to even the blind. 

The longer he waits, the more the kitten huffs. Yuri keeps stretching, tries elongating his thin frame, all to make sure Otabek notices his agitation. It's so easy. The office stopped existing for him the moment Otabek turned his back. No more hissy fits, no more broken cups, no insults hurled at others. Because now, Yuri's attention is on him alone. 

The kitten is getting desperate and he's trying to say sorry. Which is cute, but it's a little too late. Yuri means well, Otabek can see it in his eyes when he comes with a fresh mug of coffee and sets it down next to his dom. But he's still thinking about his needs first. 

\--

An hour passes and Yuri struggles to stay contained by his chair. He gave up sitting still quite a while ago but now he's pacing and yet again, their boss is giving Otabek stern looks. 

_ Get him under control.  _

Well, fine. He stands and Yuri doesn't make a secret about his hopes. He abandons the conference room he is working in alone because no one dares to come too close and hurries to Otabek's side. Silent, but hopeful. Yuri's eyes fall on his hands. 

That is what he wants. Interesting. 

"I'm going to the toilet." Otabek's voice is calm, matter of factly. There's no innuendo or invitation in it. 

"Can I come along?" Yuri whispers, broken, small, the ball of fire and fury combusted inside of him. He's a shell wanting, no, needing to be filled to function again. 

"No." 

Sometimes, leading someone means denying them. Yuri knows that, he does, but his eyes fill, nonetheless. Otabek hasn't realized he's that desperate. "Okay." It's the voice of a child being refused a sleepover. It's the voice of a junky being deprived of his fix. 

Yuri turns and walks back, sinks into his chair, stills. There's no nervous energy left. He looks like he's made of lead now. Only barely do his hands manage to hold up his head. 

Hot fury, cold fury, anger, desperation, acceptance. It's not the five stages of grief, but it sounds familiar. Otabek turns and goes to the toilet. Alone. 

\-- 

The kitten is completely useless at this point. His head is on the table and Yuri doesn't even pretend to work on the documents in front of him. He's staring into nothing, lost and waiting for guidance he won't get because he's been naughty and he needs to learn. 

Feltsman eventually comes up to Otabek. "This isn't what I meant when I told you to fix him." 

"I understand. But that's exactly what he needs. What you need. What has to happen." Otabek shrugs and tries to return to his excel sheets. Yuri's antics made him late as it is. 

"He's not working right now, how could this be what we need?" 

"He is working. He's just not openly productive. But his brain is going a mile a minute and you can see it when you look into his eyes. Do you want a quick fix for his behavior? Or do you want to avoid it in the future entirely?" 

Feltsman stares at him. Neither of them say a word. There's no silence, though, because people around them talk, work, live. The moment stretches, but Otabek doesn't budge. He knows his kitten, even if the others don't. 

"This better work." 

He's alone at his desk again and Yuri turns, sad eyes seeking Otabek's gaze. The kitten is finally asking for guidance, not pleasure. Otabek gets up and walks to the other man. Yuri remains stiff and still, waiting, now tense again, but this time with anticipation. 

"Up." Yuri jumps to his feet, stands ramrod straight. He licks his lips. The needy kitten wants too much for his own good. "Did you learn your lesson?" Otabek is answered with enthusiastic nodding. "Good. What  _ is _ your lesson?" 

And now he curls into himself a little. Yuri obviously hasn't expected a pop quiz. "I'm … I shouldn't … fuck, Beka. I don't …" He shakes his head. The poor kitty is overwhelmed. 

"Are you going to allow me to guide you?" Otabek hates seeing him so distressed. Yuri is too special. So he throws him a bone. It's the kitten's decision if he wants to pick it up or not. But Yuri is smart, so he nods with desperation in his eyes. They scream everything, while his mouth stays closed. Otabek can see the way his jaw works. Strung tight, the poor boy, a bunch of tension in the cloak of a person. "Follow me." 

Yuri does. He's almost floating behind Otabek, radiating gratefulness and, shockingly, submission. His head is bowed, but that does nothing to diminish his pride. 

Otabek takes him to the toilet stalls. That isn't ideal. Yuri deserves to be laid down on a bed with soft sheets, candles in the background and classic music playing. He's supposed to be enjoyed, drunk down like fine wine. But it's all they have and it's how things started and somehow, the full circle of their story feels fulfilling. 

The door closes and Yuri is already on his knees, no regard for the expensive suit. He's begging with his eyes for the one thing no one else ever gave him. Before Yuri, Otabek didn't think there would be someone so headstrong with such an intense need to be pushed out of their own head, but here he is, mewling, pleading. 

He wants his brain turned to mush, to forget for a moment how much pressure rests on the lithe shoulders and Otabek is happy to help. But not like this. He guides Yuri up with a hand on his jaw. "There, there kitten. You deserve more than that." Questions in Yuri's eyes, alongside with sparkles of confusion and hope. When he stands, he parts his legs a little. 

Otabek guides him to lean against the door, bends him over just slightly, nestles himself against the plush ass. His hand lands between Yuri's thighs, trails up, cups him where he's hard as a beautiful diamond. With swift motions, Otabek pulls the pants away. There he is, his Yuri, bare from the waist down, and ready. Always with a plug in his ass to keep him open, always with lube in his pant pockets to stay accessible. That is what Otabek likes and so it's what Yuri does. 

Grabbing into Yuri's pocket, he pulls out the liquid and spreads it over his kitten's entrance. It helps ease the plug out and Otabek in. When he did this the first time, he wondered if they'd need a condom. Otabek is a careful person. But Yuri provided him with clean records. With how deep Otabek sunk his claws into the kitty, he knows no one else is allowed close. 

Yuri is his, was his since the day Otabek ruined him. As far as he's concerned, Yuri will stay in his possession until one of them dies. 

When they are together, it's broken moans and silky warmth. Otabek feels at home inside him, and Yuri feels nothing at all. Nothing but contentment. That's what he said, at least. 

So Otabek fucks him against the door. But it's a little different. Urgent, needy, hectic. All of those adjectives made up most of their previous encounters. But now, they are almost sweet with each other. Yuri mumbles words of gratefulness under his breath and Otabek kisses them away, praises the kitten because that's what he deserves. There are grabby hands still, light spanks, red skin where nails leave impressions that might say _'I hate you'_ or maybe _'I love you.'._ But somehow Otabek knows it's the latter today. 

"Yura …" That's a first. Normally it's the kitten who's whining and pleading. But Otabek is a weak man and at this point, he waited just as long as Yuri has. He's answered with a pitiful noise, a needy cry. Yuri tightens around him and draws him in. The clenching is hot, yes, but Otabek loses his senses in the tiny moans and soft sounds from his lover's lips. 

He won't withstand much longer, Yuri feels too good. All of Yuri does. Not just his velvet mouth or his hot core. Otabek kisses his neck, needs those sounds close to his ear, leans forward as much as he can. It's supposed to be a hard, quick fuck, a reward for learning a lesson. 

But when Yuri falls apart around him, drags Otabek into the darkness right with him … that's when he realizes. 

Maybe Yuri needs him for guidance when it comes to social situations. But Otabek needs him just as much. He dissolves into as many parts as the mug earlier, just like his kitten, but that's okay. 

Together, they can rebuild. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae), and to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


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